Page 47 of Whatever Lola Wants

Which was as good an excuse as any.

Anna poked at the carton of food with her chopsticks. “I can’t believe how much my feet hurt. We must’ve walked twenty miles today.”

Lola shook her head. “Couldn’t have been more than ten. Do we have any pot stickers left?”

Anna leaned over to peer into one of the half dozen cartons on the floor. “Nope.”

Lola scowled. “I thought we ordered extra.”

“We did. We ate them all.”

“Oh.” Lola considered that. “Okay, where’s the sesame chicken?”

“In my hands,” Anna retorted. “And I’m not sharing.”

“Wedding dress shopping makes you mean.”

Anna didn’t look up from the carton. “You’d be mean too if your stubborn-ass fiancé only gave you a month and a half to pull a wedding together, and your mother was being a bitch.”

“What did Kimberly do?”

Anna shrugged. “She wants to come up a day early and play the doting mother of the bride.”

Lola ran her tongue around her teeth and considered the boggy ground. “Do you want her to?”

“I want a mother who loves me and would do anything to help make my wedding day magical and beautiful and the happiest day of my life.” Anna set the carton down. “But since that’s not the mother I got, I told her she couldn’t come until Saturday morning.”

“Good for you, sweetie.”

“That’s what Grant said, but I’m still sad. And I still don’t have a wedding dress.”

“We need more margaritas,” Lola decided and staggered to her feet. She took a moment for the room to stop swirling—was it supposed to do that?—before heading to the kitchen, and the blender. “If you want more time, I could lean on Grant. Threaten to poke needles in his penis or something.”

“Oh, please don’t. I really like his penis.”

Lola laughed so hard she had to hold on to the counter to stay upright.

“Oh. Ha, ha, very funny.” Anna stuck her tongue out, then went back to moping. “It would be so much easier if we just did the justice of the peace thing. But I only plan to do this once, and I really want it to be special. And I want to wear a pretty dress.”

Lola looked up from the blender at the wobble in Anna’s voice and noted with alarm that her bottom lip was trembling. “Oh, honey, don’t do that.”

“I can’t help it,” Anna wailed. “I’m going to be walking down the aisle in some dweeby suit from a department store instead of a wedding dress, and it sucks.”

Lola hurried around the counter to wrap Anna in a hug. “We’re going to fix it, sweetie. I won’t let you get married in a department store suit.”

“You promise?” Anna asked with a sniff.

“I promise.” She drew back, gripping Anna’s shoulders. “Listen, we are highly resourceful, highly intelligent women. We just have to put our heads together. I already asked around at my office, and we can put up a few adds on Craigslist?—”

“Oh God, I’m going to get my wedding dress from Craigslist?”

“Okay, maybe Craigslist is a bad idea.” Lola winced when Anna began to sob in earnest. “But we’re going to find you the perfect dress, and you’ll be a beautiful bride.”

Anna hiccupped, brushing tears away from her cheeks as she looked at Lola with big eyes. “You think?”

“I know,” Lola replied fervently, and inwardly hoped she wasn’t making promises she couldn't keep. “Grant’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you walk down that aisle, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Anna nodded and drew a deep breath. “Okay. I will trust that the universe will bring me what I need.”

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